ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A graduate in English Literature, Madhuri, finds beauty in quiet moments and stories that linger long after the last word. With a love for nuanced emotions and poetic prose, she writes to explore the depths of human connection. You can follow her journey and glimpses of her writing world on Instagram: @bookedgurl_madhu 

-----

Price Tag

I traced my fingers along the spines of the books, trying to focus on their titles. Megha stood beside me, pulling out a thick hardcover and flipping through its pages.

"This one looks good for the research, don’t you think?" she asked, tilting the book toward me.

I barely glanced at it. "Hmm."

"Tara," she sighed. "At least pretend to care."

I opened my mouth to respond, but then—I felt it.That familiar shift in the air.

I stiffened, my hands dropped to my sides. I didn’t need to turn my head to know. He was here.

Ansh.

My heart clenched as he was walking towards us, moving effortlessly through the aisle, his eyes trained straight ahead as if I didn’t exist. As if I were just anyone.

I swallowed hard, keeping my focus on the bookshelf, but my body betrayed me. Every nerve, every sense, was hyper-aware of him.

Then, just as he was about to pass me—he touched me.

A fleeting brush of his fingers against mine. Two seconds. That’s all it lasted.Two seconds that left a burning imprint on my skin. It wasn't accidental, he purposely did it. Maybe teasing me. 

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My breath hitched, my pulse hammering in my ears.

By the time I turned, he was already walking away, hands stuffed into his pockets, his face unreadable. He never looked back.

"Tara?" Megha’s voice broke through the moment.

I blinked. “Yeah?"

She frowned, tilting her head. "You okay?"

I forced a nod, grabbing the nearest book off the shelf without even looking at the title. 

She sighed in disbelief “ God knows what you are thinking!”  

I gripped the book in my hand, trying to steady myself. My skin still burned where his fingers had brushed mine. But I refused to look at him. Refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing his presence affected me.

Megha, oblivious to the sudden tension in my posture, continued flipping through pages. "This should work for the research paper. It covers the entire topic in detail."

I nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, sure."

And then—I heard him.

Not directly, not in a way that demanded attention, but in a way that made it impossible to ignore. Ansh’s voice, low and casual, speaking to someone beside him. Maybe his friend. 

I chanced a glance from the corner of my eye. He stood a few feet away, pretending to skim through books, but I knew better. His fingers barely moved over the titles. His focus wasn’t on the shelf. It was on me.

And his friend—whoever he was—was saying something to him.

"Dude, what even are you looking for?" the guy asked, sounding bored. "You never study from books. Just admit you’re killing time."

Ansh didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes flickered toward me—so brief that if I hadn’t been watching for it, I might’ve missed it.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Just looking."

Just looking.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to concentrate on Megha’s words.

"We still need at least one more reference book," she said, running her fingers along the spines.

"This one?" I pulled a random book from the shelf and handed it to her without thinking.

She frowned. "Tara, this is a cookbook. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I blinked down at the title and immediately kept it back. Damn it.Megha gave me a pointed look. "Okay, what’s going on? Tell me."

"Nothing," I muttered. 

From behind me, I heard Ansh’s friend chuckle. "She picked a cookbook?"

Heat crept up my neck, this is embarrassing. 

"Shut up," Ansh said, his voice quieter now.

I turned, finally locking eyes with him.

He held my gaze for a second longer than necessary—long enough for me to see it.

Recognition.

Familiarity.

A silent conversation neither of us wanted to start.

Then, like nothing had happened, he reached for a book, casually flipping through the pages.

He pretended to read, but I knew he wasn’t actually paying attention to the book in his hands. His fingers hovered over the pages, turning them too fast—like he was just waiting for something.

For what?

Megha sighed beside me. "You’re being weird today." She placed a book in her bag and checked her phone. "Anyway, I need to return a call. Meet me at the checkout?"

I nodded, relieved that she was leaving—relieved, but also restless. Because now it was just me, Ansh, and his friend in the aisle. The silence between us felt dangerous.

His friend—tall, sharp-eyed, and clearly amused by something I didn’t understand—leaned against the shelf. "So, you’re not introducing me?" he asked Ansh, smirking.

Ansh finally looked up from his book. "Mind your own business, Rohan."

"Relax, dude." Rohan chuckled and turned to me. "I’ve seen you around. You’re Tara, right?"

I hesitated. He knew my name?

"Yeah." My voice was steady, but my fingers clenched around my book.

"Nice. We finally meet." Rohan grinned, like this was some normal, casual interaction. But I could feel Ansh’s gaze on me—heavy, unreadable.

He never talked about me to his friends. Never.

So why did Rohan seem like he’d been expecting to meet me?

“You're cute! ” Rohan chuckled. But it didn't feel like a compliment. It sounds like he was mocking me and I did not feel good about it. 

Ansh cleared his throat. "Enough." He shoved the book back on the shelf and grabbed Rohan’s wrist, tugging him away.

But just before he turned the corner, he glanced back—for a split second. I saw something in his eyes that he had never let me see before.Not just recognition.Not just familiarity.

But guilt.

Then he was gone.

And I was left standing there, gripping a book I no longer needed, trying to make sense of why now—after all this time—he suddenly looked like he regretted something. 

Did he make fun of me in front of his friends? Did he say something bad about me to them? Had he told them that my father works as a driver and cleaner for his house. 

No, why would he do that. He is my best friend. I am just overthinking. 

____

After issuing books, I shoved one into my bag and pushed the library door open, stepping out into the corridor with Megha.

"You look like you’re thinking about someone," she observed, raising an eyebrow.

"Not someone," I muttered. "Just… something."

Something stupid. Something infuriating.

Something named Ansh.

But before I could dwell on it any longer, my phone vibrated again. A message from him. 

I hesitated. His text? At this time? He only text me during nights. 

“ Wait after your classes. I’ll drop you home.”

I blinked.

What?

"Tara?" Megha nudged my shoulder. "You okay?"

No. I wasn’t. Because what the hell was this? He couldn’t go from pretending I didn’t exist to this in the span of a few minutes.

My fingers hovered over my keyboard.

“ I don’t need a ride.”

His reply came instantly.

“I didn’t ask if you needed one. Just wait.”

My heart did a stupid thing then. A tiny, ridiculous skip. My phone buzzed with another text. 

“Parking lot, I'll wait! ”

________

After classes I found him standing near his car, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of me. Or maybe he was aware and just pretending not to be.

For a moment, I considered walking away. Maybe he was just being nice earlier, and I was reading too much into it. He must be joking. Because he never talked to me Or acknowledged me during college hours. 

But before I could turn, he lifted his head and looked straight at me.

"Oh you came?" he asked, his voice casual, but something about the way he said it made my heart stutter. He kept his phone in pocket and smiled. 

“Let's go” He opened the door for me. 

I hurried toward the car and slid into the passenger seat as he got in beside me. The familiar scent of his cologne filled the space, making my fingers fidget in my lap.

For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything, just adjusted the AC and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Tujhse ek kaam tha," he finally said without looking at me. 

I turned to him, curious. "kaam?"

"Assignments likhni hai. Mere kuch doston ko zaroorat hai.” he finally averted his gaze to me “Paise milenge."

My eyes widened slightly at the mention of money. "Really?" 

He nodded. "Yup, I told them I will arrange the assignments, I thought you would be happy,you needed money right?"

I smiled widely, nodding my head. 

It was true. I always looked for ways to earn a little, to help Baba in whatever small way I could. This… this was good.

"Main likh dungi." I said, trying to control my excitement. 

Ansh glanced at me then, a look I couldn’t quite place passing through his eyes.

"Cool," he said simply, turning the key in the ignition.

As the car moved forward, I stared out the window, my fingers tightening around my bag.

I was happy. It was simple work. Small way to earn some money.

The car moved through the narrow streets, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between us. I glanced at Ansh from the corner of my eye. He looked relaxed, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other drumming lightly against his knee.

"Kitne assignments likhne hain?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"Chaar. Ek do din mein ho jayega?" he asked, glancing at me.

"Haan, ho jayega," I nodded confidently. "Main aaj raat se hi likhna shuru kar dungi."

He smirked. "Itni mehnat? Zara araam bhi kar liya kar."

"Mujhe kaam karna accha lagta hai," I said, smiling slightly.

He hummed in response, then after a pause, added, "Why are you always so serious."

"I am not." I protested.

He chuckled. "Tu har cheez seriously leti hai. Agar main bolun ki aasman pink hai, tu research karke proof le aayegi ki nahi hai."

I pursed my lips. "It's not like that."

“It is," he teased, shooting me a grin. "You are like this from childhood, remember when I told you chewing gum is plastic and you did not touch it for years. “

I huffed, crossing my arms. “ I didn't know you were lying."

He laughed, a full, carefree sound that made something warm settle in my chest.

"You are still the same." he murmured, shaking his head. After few minutes I felt his touch, he slowly slide his hand into mine. His eyes were focused on road or I can say he was deliberately avoiding my eyes. 

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed quiet, staring out the window as familiar streets passed by. His touch was like electricity. 

A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of my chawl. For a second, I just stared at him. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something almost hesitant, almost unsure.

I swallowed. "What happened?"

He held my gaze for a second longer, then nodded. "Nothing, you can go. " 

My eyes dropped to our hands and then shifted back to him. He stared at our hands and smiled. With those chocolate brown eyes and sharp nose, he always looked impossibly gorgeous. But nothing was surprising, beauty was in his genes. 

He released my hands and sighed “Bye”

I nodded and stepped out, shutting the door behind me, my heart feeling strangely heavy.

“Bye! ” I said softly and he waved at me with a smile. 

 I watched the taillights disappear down the street as he drove off. I wasn’t sure why, but my chest ached a little.

                         *****************

After cleaning the dishes I wiped my hands on my kurti and walked out of the small kitchen.

I checked on my father, who was already asleep. My heart aches at his tired face. He works so hard for our family. I hope I can make him proud one day. 

I grabbed my phone from the corner and quietly tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake him. The night was quiet, with only the distant sounds of the neighborhood. I went to the varanda of our chawl, the cool breeze immediately easing the tension in my shoulders. It was the only place where I could be alone, even if just for a little while.

I took out my phone and saw a message from Ansh.A smile crept on my face. 

"Still working?"

"Almost done. Just need a little break." I replied. 

A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again. "Must be tired! ”

I leaned back against the wall, feeling the quiet of the night settle around me. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, then I pressed call. I needed to hear his voice.

The call rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey." His voice sounded relaxed, like he was expecting my call.

"Hey," I said, settling into the cold concrete of the steps. "How’s your evening going?"

"Nothing much, just winding down from the day. You?"

"Same here. I’ve been working non-stop. You know how it is, Amma went to hometown so I have to do everything ."

He laughed softly, and I could feel the smile in his voice. "Yeah, I get it. It’s like you never really get a break, right?"

"Exactly," I replied, stretching my legs out in front of me. "So, what did you end up doing after college?"

"Uh... not much. Hung out with a couple of friends. You know, the usual." There was a pause, and I could tell he was thinking of something. 

“By the way” I began “ Thanks for the assignment work, ”

"No problem," He said, happy that I appreciated his help. "You’ll finish it in no time. I’m sure it’ll be great."

 "I don’t know about that. I’ll try not to disappoint you and your friends." I said while pressing the fingers of my feets. 

There was a small silence on his end, and I could almost hear him smirking. "Well, thanks for accepting the deal."

"You’re welcome," I laughed. The night felt peaceful now, as if the small talk we were having was enough to fill the quiet. It was our daily routine to talk at this hour. He might not acknowledge me in college but he never misses the call. 

“Had dinner? ” I asked, sounding casual. 

“Yup,” he sighed “I just don't have anything to do right now,”

“And I have lots of things to do right now” we laughed in unison. 

“Still you are making a time for me, ” he added that made me blush. 

“ Always ”

Then, I remembered something I was holding myself from asking "So, earlier today... in the canteen, you were with that girl. Who was she?" I asked casually, trying to hide the sudden twinge of curiosity.

There was a slight pause. "Oh, her? Just a friend," he replied quickly, like it was no big deal.

"Just a friend?" I repeated, trying to sound casual, but something in my voice must’ve given me away, because he quickly added:

"Yeah, just like you are, Tara. "

I let out a breath, though I couldn’t help but ask one more time. "But she looked like... you know, close. Are you sure?"

Ansh laughed lightly, and I could almost picture him shrugging on the other end. "I told you. She’s just a friend. Just like you. So yes, close you can say… "he sighed “We were just talking.”

I bit my lip, still not fully convinced but letting it go.

"Okay. I guess I was just curious."

"Don’t be," he said gently. "It’s nothing. If something is there you will be the first person to know. ”

There was a beat of silence, then he added, "So, what’s up with you? How’s everything at home?"

I smiled, grateful for the change of topic. "Everything’s good. Baba has been doing better lately, though he’s been extra tired. I’ve been helping him out a lot."

"That’s good to hear," he said softly. "You’re doing a great job, Tara. He’s lucky to have you." 

I felt a warm blush creeping up my cheeks, though I knew he couldn’t see it. "Thanks, Ansh."

“Welcome."

There was something comforting in his words. For a moment, it felt like the world outside had disappeared. It was just us—sitting there, talking, about nothing and everything all at once.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, feeling more relaxed now. "Do you ever think about what it’s gonna be like after all this college stuff is over?" I asked, my voice quieter.

He was silent for a moment before he answered, his tone thoughtful. "I don’t know. I guess I haven’t thought about it much. But I think... it’ll be different, you know?"

"Different how?" I asked, intrigued.

"Well, you’re going to be busy with work and life... and I’ll probably be busy with mine." His voice sounded distant for a second, as if he was thinking about the future in a way I didn’t understand.

I smiled at the thought, even though it felt bittersweet. "Yeah, I guess we’ll see. But whatever happens, we’ll be in touch."

He didn’t say anything right away, but I could hear him exhale quietly. "Yeah, of course, you are my best friend, after all."

The conversation continued like that for a while, bouncing between silly little topics and the kind of comfortable silence that felt natural between us. Eventually, I glanced at the time and realized how late it was.

"I should probably get going," I said, reluctantly.

"Let's talk for five minutes more now," Ansh requested and it made me happy. 

“I also want to, but it's already 12 and I need to make assignments also…” I sighed. 

“Okay ” he sounded upset "But, hey, we’ll talk tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," I said with a soft smile.

"Goodnight, Tara."

"Goodnight, Ansh."

The call ended, and I sat there for a few more minutes, staring at the stars above. Somehow, the world felt a little less heavy tonight. Maybe it was just the fact that I will get some money soon. Being able to help baba always makes me happy. 

           *****

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow on everything around me as I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my black kurti. I had spent hours getting ready—carefully picking out something nice to wear, making sure my hair was perfect. 

"Six o'clock," I repeated to myself, smiling. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so excited.

“Kaha jaa rhi hai, itna ban than ke? ”

My mother said as she saw me through the mirror of the cupboard. I was applying kajal in my eyes. 

I turned around to look at her, she was sitting on the floor, cutting vegetables. 

“Ansh ka birthday hai aaj! ” I smiled and her hands froze. She tilted her head to look in my eyes “tujhe bulaya hai? ”

“Haa! ” I kept the kajal pencil aside and she sighed. 

“Yaha aa!! ” She patted the floor beside her and I immediately went and sat there. 

“Kya hua? ”

“ Tujhe kitni baar samjhaya hai beta maine! ” Her voice was calm but firm. I sighed and kept my hand on her shoulder. 

“Amma, aapko pareshan hone ki jarurat nahi hai, vo mera acha dost hai! ”

“Vo bade log hai beta, itna lagav acha nhi hai!”

Ansh had invited me to his birthday, and for the first time, it felt like I was part of his world. He never invited me to any of his parties before. Never. So for the very first time I felt special. 

I cupped her face and kissed her cheek “thik hai, mein dhyan rakhungi, ” I stood up and walked towards the bed “Abhi mujhe late ho rha hai “

I grabbed my gift and kept it in my tote. I hung it over my shoulder and started walking towards the door. 

“Thik se jaa, aur jaldi aana” she shouted from the back. 

“Haa aap tension mat lo”

I slipped into my flats at the door and left my house, eager to see him. 

When I arrived at his house, though, everything was... empty. The driveway was quiet, no cars. I walked up to the door, confused. There was no sign of a party, no decorations, no laughter from his friends. Just silence.

I stood there for a moment, trying to wrap my head around it. Had I gotten the time wrong? Was it canceled?

Before I could think further, the door opened, and his mom appeared, looking somewhat relieved when she saw me. "Oh, thank God you came," she said, stepping aside. "Come in, come in. Ansh’s friends haven’t arrived yet.” 

She closed the door behind her and turned to look at me. 

“Listen, first, make some food. Then you can help me with the decorations and music. It'll be ready by the time everyone shows up. Is that okay?"

I blinked, feeling a bit thrown off, but nodded. "Okay." 

I kept my tote in the corner and followed her inside the massive kitchen. A part of me was still confused about whatever was happening. 

She instructed me about what dishes to make and also assured me that I knew how to make it. 

The evening passed in a blur. I chopped vegetables, stirred pots, and arranged food while she worked on decorations. Three hours later, the house was ready, the food was settled on the dining table, and no one had come yet. Ansh still wasn’t there. It was almost fifteen people's food. 

When everything was finally set, his mom smiled and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Great job, Tara. You can go now.”

I stood there, stunned. That was it? No "thank you," no invitation to stay? I had spent hours helping them, and it felt like I wasn’t even acknowledged. I stared at her with a blank face and she scoffed. 

“ Tension mat le, paise tere papa ke hatho bhijwa dungi ”

 My throat flexed with a gulp but I kept quiet, walking towards the corner I kept my bag at. I took out the small gift box and kept it on the table near the window. 

My stomach suddenly started to hurt, walking out of the house as quickly as I could, my heart sinking with every step.

Ansh had invited me—at least, that’s what he had said. But once again, it felt like I wasn’t truly a part of his world.

And I remembered something from childhood. The times when I used to go to his house with my father, to play with Ansh. One day when I went and knocked on his door. 

His mom appeared and told me that Ansh won't be playing with me today. He had invited his friends to watch a movie at home so I should go back to my father. 

That day I wondered if he invited all of his friends and why he didn't invite me. I was his best friend. He used to say I am his best friend. 

That day I asked my father about this and he told me I wasn't his friend. They just need someone to play with Ansh, that's why they asked  baba to bring me along with him everyday. 

But that time I didn't believe him. I didn't want to believe it. Because I also wanted a friend. 

But now I understood he was right. 

______

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart heavy with everything that had happened earlier. I didn’t want to tell my amma—she would’ve just worried more, and honestly, I didn’t want to explain how my excitement had turned into disappointment. It was like a dream I had built up in my head, only to have it shattered in an instant.

I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling my emotions bubble up to the surface, but I held them back. I didn’t want to cry—not now, not when I was already feeling so small.

Then, my phone buzzed, breaking the stillness of the room.

I reached over and picked it up, half-expecting another random notification, but when I saw his name on the screen, my heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, you left a gift for me. I love the bracelet, and your note was cute.”

A sigh escaped me, and I blinked at the message, my finger hovering over the screen. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to not let him think that everything was fine when it wasn’t. But another part of me just couldn’t—maybe it was because deep down, I was still holding on to the small thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, he cared.

I took a deep breath and typed back, my fingers slow as I formed my reply.

‘I’m glad you liked it. I just thought it might suit you.’

I stared at the message for a while before sending it.

Three dots appeared followed by a text “Call??”

I locked the screen and kept the phone aside. I closed my eyes, trying to take a breath. I don't want to make any calls. Not now. In fact never. 

Never ever. When my eyes opened, tears started flowing like rivers down my cheeks. 

The phone started ringing , I looked at it. He was calling. For the first time in my life,I declined it . 

As the night continued, I felt a strange mixture of emotions inside me. I had tried so hard to fit in, to be there for him, to be a part of his world. But it felt like every time I got closer, something pulled me back. Something that reminded me I wasn’t truly included in the life he lived, even though we had shared so many years together.

The sudden ringing of my phone startled me, but I ignored it. I didn't want to hear his voice right now. It felt like I was giving him a chance to make everything okay, but I knew deep down it wouldn't. Nothing would change.

I couldn't understand what had happened. Why was I just an afterthought? Why was I the one who ended up alone, again, while everyone else was part of his world? I had done everything for him today—cooked, decorated, and waited for something that never came. And yet, when I needed just a little acknowledgment, it never came. I tried to fight it, but tears welled up in my eyes. I wiped them away quickly, not wanting to break down over something that I knew wasn’t worth it.

I closed my eyes and hugged my knees tighter, wanting to shut everything out. His words from years ago echoed in my mind—the words my father had spoken about being needed only as a playmate. Maybe I had been naïve all this time. Maybe he had never really seen me as a friend.

I thought of the bracelet I had given him. A simple gift that barely cost 50 rupees. I thought it would matter to him, but now I saw that it was just another thing that would be tucked away, forgotten.

The phone buzzed again, but this time I didn’t even look at it. I couldn't bear it. He didn't deserve to get a response. I had given him enough chances. I can't always give him the right to humiliate me more, hurt me more. 

I sank deeper into the bed, letting the darkness of the night envelop me. 

                               ********

I pulled out a book from the shelf, thinking about what topic I should choose for my next assignment. I flipped pages and suddenly my breath hitched. I felt a presence beside me. 

“Aaj akeli ho? ”

Ansh. Invading my personal space. 

His voice came out like a casual greeting. I had been avoiding him for days, but now, standing in the quiet corner of the library, I had nowhere to escape.

"You’ve been ignoring my texts," he said. I could sense the irritation beneath his voice. 

I turned the page, even though I hadn't read a single word. "I’ve been busy."

He scoffed. "Busy? Too busy to even reply?"

I didn’t answer.

Ansh sighed, stepping closer, his voice lowering. "Listen, if there is something wrong with you, talk to me." 

I finally looked at him, my eyes burning with unspoken words. "Talk to you?" I scoffed. I held the book to my chest and was about to walk away when he held my shoulders and pushed me against the wall, trapping me between his arms and wall. 

I inhaled sharply, my back pressing against the cold wall as he caged me in. His dark eyes searched mine, frustration flickering beneath them.

"Tara, what's wrong with you?" he demanded. "Why are you acting like this?"

I clenched my jaw, gripping the book tightly. "You really don't know?"

His brows furrowed. "No, I don’t. So tell me."

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. "You used me, Ansh. You always have."

His hands loosened slightly, but he didn’t move away. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He tried to make eye contact but I looked away. 

He touched my chin to turn my face to him. 

“Tell me! ” he said softly and I almost melted in those chocolate brown eyes. 

I took a deep breath and looked straight in his eyes. 

"I spent my entire evening at your house, cooking, setting up everything while you were out with your friends. And when I left—broken and humiliated—you had the audacity to text me like nothing happened," my voice cracked, but I refused to cry. "I was never your friend, right? Just someone convenient."

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Tara, it wasn’t a big deal. You needed the money anyway."

My stomach twisted. "What?"

He shrugged. "That’s why I suggested your name to my mom when she needed a helper. I thought I was helping you out."

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

The book slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a soft thud.

"You—" I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. "You suggested my name… as a helper?"

He looked at me like I was being dramatic. "Yeah? You always complain about money problems, so I figured—"

A bitter laugh bubbled up inside me. "You really think that’s all I am? Someone who exists to serve you?"

His brows furrowed. "Tara, don’t twist my words."

 "I should’ve known," I whispered, my vision blurring. "I was never your friend, was I?" I pushed him slightly to escape. 

"Tara—" 

I turned to leave, my entire body shaking, but before I could escape, his grip tightened around my wrist.

"Enough drama," he muttered, pulling me back. "We’ll have your damn party now if that’s what you’re mad about.” 

He sounded like he is frustrated and he wants to brush the topic off as soon as possible. 

“ It's not about the party, Ansh!”

“Then why are you sulking? ”

I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. Not in front of him. 

"It’s always like this!" I looked down. "Since we were kids. You never truly cared about me. I was just… there. And I was stupid enough to believe you did."

He stared at me, jaw tight, his fingers twitching slightly before he let out a breath and dropped his arms, giving me space.

“The days when we used to play together and when you used to go inside for lunch, your mom used to stop me from coming in, and I never complained. Do you know how it feels to sit near the shoe shelf outside your door? “ I looked up,meeting his eyes “How'd you know, we are so different, it's impossible for you to understand! ”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“And in college you act like you don't know me at all because you are ashamed to call me your friend, and that's the same reason you never invite me for anything that is supposed to be friendly .”

"Fine," he said. "Let’s have a party now if that’s what you’re mad about."

I frowned, confused. "What?"

“Or what Tara?” He snapped. “You are Bhuvan kaka's daughter, but I never treated you like one, I have always treated you like my best friend, you know my friends kept changing over the years, but you are the only constant. I told dad to get you admitted to the same college as mine, else, do you think you could afford to study in this college?”

My lips pressed in a thin line. The weight of his mean words pushed me down. 

“I have done so much for you Tara and yet you forget about everything and yet you are behaving like this just because I didn't invite you for a damn birthday party! ” He was visibly frustrated. 

“You don't understand Ansh, it's not about parties. You say I am the only constant friend, right? Then why do you prioritize those temporary friends over your constant? ”

He sighed , stepping back. 

"I’ll take you out now. A proper birthday celebration," he said, grabbing my wrist. "You can stop sulking."

I tried to pull my wrist free, but his grip was firm. "Ansh, let go. I don’t want to go anywhere with you." 

"Too bad," he muttered, dragging me toward the exit. I struggled, but the difference in our strength was obvious. My pulse pounded in my ears as we stepped out of the library and into the corridor.

"Ansh, I swear—"

"Enough, Tara." He didn’t even look back as he led me toward the parking lot. "You keep sulking, but I’m fixing it now. We’re going out. End of discussion."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But more than anything, I wanted to understand why I was still letting him do this to me.I yanked at his grip one last time as we reached his car. "Ansh, listen to me—"

He finally stopped at the parking area and turned, his eyes flashing with irritation. "No, you listen. You wanted a birthday celebration, you were mad about it, fine. We’ll do it now. So get in the car."

"That’s not—"

"Just get in the damn car, Tara."

The frustration in his voice made me pause. He was angry, but why? Because I was upset? Because I had called him out? Or because, deep down, he knew I was right?

For a moment, we just stared at each other. His grip had loosened, but I could still feel the heat of his hand on my wrist.

I could walk away.I should walk away. But I didn’t. Instead, I wrenched my wrist free and climbed into the car.

Ansh smirked, like he had won, and slammed the door shut before getting into the driver’s seat.

As the engine roared to life, I crossed my arms and looked out the window. This wasn’t about me. It never was. Ansh wasn’t taking me out because he cared.

He was taking me out to shut me up. And maybe… maybe I let him. Because, despite everything, I still wanted to believe that, for once, he would prove me wrong.

But deep down, I already knew. He wouldn’t.

The ride was silent. The tension between us was thick, and I refused to look at him. My arms were still crossed, my gaze fixed on the passing streetlights.

The car slowed as we entered a lively street. Neon lights flickered, music thumped from nearby clubs, and groups of people laughed and stumbled along the sidewalks. My stomach twisted.

A pub.

I turned to look at him. His eyes on the front as he pulled over. 

"Ansh, no," I said immediately, shaking my head. "Take me home."

"Come on, Tara," he sighed, parking the car. "You’ve been miserable all week. Let loose for once."

"This isn’t—"

"Just for a while," he cut me off. "Then I’ll drop you home. Promise."

I clenched my fists, debating whether to argue. But it wouldn’t matter. He never listened. So, against my better judgment, I got out of the car.

He held my hand taking me in. 

Inside, the place was loud, packed with people dancing under dim, flashing lights. The smell of alcohol mixed with perfume filled the air. My heart pounded as I followed Ansh to a table where a few of his friends were already seated.

He gestured to me to sit as he pulled the chair. I did. My heart is racing in fear. 

Drinks were pushed toward us, and Ansh took one without hesitation. "Here," he said, handing me a glass.

I stared at it. "No, thanks."

"Don’t be boring," he teased, already sipping his. I glared at him. "I don’t drink."

Ansh rolled his eyes. "Just one."

I sighed, pushing the glass away. "I said no."

He didn’t argue. Not this time. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, his long fingers tapping against the rim of his drink. "Suit yourself."

The night dragged on. His friends chatted, laughed, and drank more. Ansh, as always, was the center of attention. He laughed the loudest, spoke the most. And drank the most.

I lost count of how many glasses he had. His voice grew heavier, his movements lazier.

“I’m leaving," I said, standing up.

Ansh turned to me, blinking. "Already?" His speech was slightly slurred.

"Yes," I snapped. "You’re drunk."

He smirked, tilting his head. "Maybe."

I sighed, annoyed. "Where are your car keys?"

He fished them out of his pocket and dangled them in front of me. "You driving me home?"

"I should leave you here," I muttered, snatching them away. Ansh only laughed.

His friends barely noticed as I pulled him up from his seat. He was heavy, leaning on me as we walked out. His warmth pressed against my side, hand around my waist and my heart pounded—not from excitement, but from frustration.

I pushed him in the back seat and shut the door.

“Do you even know how to drive? ” he laughed as I fastened my seatbelt. I started the engine and said without looking at him “My father is a driver!! ”

He used to teach me driving when I was seventeen, just because I was curious. 

By the time I got him to his house, he was barely standing straight. 

"You need to drink less," I muttered, taking out keys from his pocket. He laughed. I unlocked the door and took him in. 

Ansh hummed and then giggled "Mmm. You care about me, Tara?" He leaned towards my neck. His breath hit my skin like a hot storm. 

I ignored him, walking inside,he was stumbling. First when I saw no lights,I thought everyone must be sleeping but there was silence. The kind of silence that screamed no one was there. 

“Where is your room? ” 

“Straight!! ” he said but I could feel him staring at my face even when I was avoiding to look at him. I managed to get him inside his room. Turning the lights on, I guided him to his bed and released my hold. 

He collapsed onto it, sighing heavily. A sigh of relief escaped from my lips at the loss of his weight. I pulled the blanket over him and was about to leave.

But before I could, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. 

"Don’t go," he murmured.

I froze. His grip felt like steel and my heart started throbbing against my ribcage. 

“What are you doing, let me go! ”

His grip tightened as he pulled me toward him. I lost balance, falling onto the bed, my breath hitching.

"Ansh—"

"Stay," he whispered. His fingers brushed my cheek. The mixture of his cologne and alcohol hit my nostrils. 

“Tara… ”he said my name as if it was a song. I heard his laugh “never try to ignore me again, okay ” he pushed a hair strand from my forehead “I feel hurt when you don't talk to me,”

I stared at him, debating if I should believe him or not. And then his fingers lingered on my lips.  "You’re so pretty, Tara..."

My body stiffened. My heart raced. His touch was warm. His breath smelled of alcohol. And then, he leaned closer.

“Ansh… “

I turned my face away, my pulse hammering in my ears. “You’re drunk.”

Ansh chuckled softly, his breath fanning against my skin. “So what?” His fingers traced the curve of my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine. “You don’t like me touching you?”

I swallowed hard. This wasn’t Ansh. At least, not the Ansh I had known for years. The teasing, the arrogance—I could handle those. But this? This unfamiliar softness mixed with intoxication? It scared me.

“Let me go,” I whispered, trying to pull away.

He didn’t listen. Instead, his grip on my wrist tightened, and in a swift movement, he rolled over, pinning me beneath him.

Panic shot through me. “Ansh, stop—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over my collarbone. His eyes, usually sharp with mischief, were hazy now, filled with something unreadable. “You know, Tara… I think I’ve always liked you.”

My breath caught.

His words should have meant something. They should have made my heart race for the right reasons. But they didn’t.

Not like this.

Not when he was drunk, not when he wasn’t thinking clearly. I pressed my hands against his chest. “Listen, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re not yourself right now.”

He laughed, but it was different this time. Low. Almost bitter. “Maybe this is the real me.”

His lips grazed my cheek, and my stomach twisted. I turned my face away, my heart slamming against my ribs. My eyes closed shut. I didn’t stop him.

Not because I wanted this, but because… because a small part of me believed him. Maybe he did like me. Maybe this meant something. And so, I let it happen.

His hands roamed my body, his voice whispering soft praises in my ear. He called me beautiful, told me how much he had missed me, how much he wanted me. And with every word, my defenses crumbled. I melted. 

Maybe, for once, I could let go.

Maybe, for once, I didn’t have to fight.

Maybe this was love. 

_______

A steady, comforting heat pressed against my back, the weight of a strong arm draped over my waist. My body was cocooned in something safe, something that felt almost… right.

For a moment, I forgot where I was.

Then, reality crept in.

My eyes fluttered open, the early morning light slipping through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over the unfamiliar room. My breath caught as I slowly registered the weight of the arm around me, the steady rise and fall of someone’s breathing against my shoulder.

Ansh.

My pulse stuttered.

He was still asleep, his face relaxed, peaceful in a way I had never seen before. His fingers rested lightly against my stomach, his body curled protectively around mine.

I swallowed, my throat dry.

I shifted slightly, trying to gather my thoughts—to put some distance between us before the moment shattered. But at my movement, his grip tightened, his breath ghosting against my skin as he stirred.

Then—his eyes opened.

Sleepy, unfocused at first, his dark lashes fluttering as his gaze met mine.

For a split second, there was something soft in his eyes, something raw. And then it was gone. His entire body stiffened. His arm, once holding me so gently, dropped away as if burned.

Confusion flickered across his face, quickly replaced by something sharper—something cold. His lips parted, but no words came.

The silence between us grew heavier, suffocating. And then, he sat up abruptly, running a hand through his hair, his breathing suddenly too fast.

“What the hell…” he whispered, more to himself than to me. 

A sharp, invisible blade sliced through my chest. I knew what was coming. Even before he turned to look at me with wide, horrified eyes. Even before he said the words that would tear me apart.

Ansh was staring at me. Not with warmth. Not with tenderness. With horror.

His hands were in his hair, his breathing uneven, panic flickering in his eyes. “What the hell did we do?” he muttered, as if I wasn’t right there, as if he was speaking to the walls, to the ceiling, to anything but me.

I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest. My skin still carried the memory of his touch, his whispered words from last night. The way he had looked at me then—like I was something precious.

That look was gone.

I forced myself to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ansh…?”

He flinched at my voice. He stood up so quickly the bed creaked, stepping away from me as if I was something untouchable, something wrong. He turned his back to me, rubbing his hands over his face.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he muttered under his breath.

The room felt colder. My fingers curled into the sheets. I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. “We… we were together, Ansh.”

He let out a sharp breath, still not looking at me. “No.” He shook his head, as if he could erase everything. “This was a mistake.”

A mistake.

I felt something inside me crack.

He finally turned around, looking at me—but not really. He wasn’t seeing me. He was seeing a problem he needed to fix.

Then, as if realizing something, he grabbed his wallet from the floor. I watched in frozen silence as he pulled out a few notes and held them out to me.

“Take a cab and go home, okay?” His voice was clipped, hurried. “I’ll… I’ll talk to you later.”

I stared at the money in his hand. For a moment, I couldn’t process it. Couldn’t believe it. I bit my lower lip and looked at him in the eyes. 

“Ansh…” My voice cracked.

His jaw clenched. “Tara, please,” he said quickly, his eyes darting toward the door. “Before my mom comes home and sees you ,just go.”

Something in my chest twisted painfully.

He sighed taking a seat beside me, I felt his cold hands on my shoulders “You don't want my mom to know, do you? ”

I stayed quiet and he continued “ See, mein karta hu na baat tujhse baad mein, Tu bas abhi jaa yaha se! ”

I nodded and satisfaction flickered in his eyes. 

I reached for my clothes, my hands trembling as I pulled them on. My fingers felt numb, lifeless, as I buttoned my shirt.

I didn’t cry.

Not when I walked past him.

Not when I stepped out of his house.

Not even when I sat in the cab, staring blankly at the crumpled cash in my hand. But inside me, something shattered. And this time, I knew—it wouldn’t heal.

                            **********

I had waited. For days. For a call, a text, anything. But Ansh never reached out. And that silence hurt more than his rejection.

I told myself I wouldn’t cry, that I wouldn’t let his indifference define me. But as I stepped into the classroom, my heart pounded against my ribs. The moment I entered, my eyes found him.

Ansh.

Sitting on the last bench, surrounded by his friends, laughing—like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t existed. Like I hadn’t woken up in his bed, wrapped in his warmth. Like he hadn’t looked at me the next morning as if I was something disgusting.

Our eyes met.

For a second, I saw something flicker in his gaze—shock? Guilt? But before I could even process it, Megha grabbed my wrist.

"Oh god, you missed three days, Tara! Do you know how much Sir covered? He even mentioned you not paying attention! Don’t you want that scholarship?"

I blinked, dazed, as Megha dragged me toward the first bench. Scholarship. Right. I had bigger things to worry about. Things that actually mattered. But still, my mind betrayed me.

Ansh.

I didn’t turn around, but I felt him. The weight of his stare pressed against my back. I should’ve been furious. But all I felt was empty.

The moment class ended, I couldn’t stop myself.

I walked straight to the last bench, my heart hammering. Ansh was still there, leaning back in his seat, chatting with his friends like everything was normal. Like I hadn’t spent the last three days waiting for him.

"Can we talk?" My voice was steady, but my fingers curled into fists.

His friends exchanged glances before one of them smirked. "Ooh, trouble in paradise?"

I ignored the comments and kept my eyes on him. 

Ansh sighed and stood up. "Give us a minute," he muttered, brushing past me.

I walked after him, my heart pounding louder with every step. He knew I was following, but he didn’t stop until we reached an empty corridor.

Ansh exhaled, turning to face me, tilting his head back as if this conversation exhausted him even before it started. "What happened?"

I clenched my fists. "You didn't call ,didn't text ," My throat tightened, but I pushed through. "You said we'll talk about it."

He finally looked at me, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes—guilt, hesitation. But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

"Tara..." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "That night shouldn’t have happened."

A sharp pain shot through my chest. "But it did." He nodded, staring at the ground. "I know. And I’m sorry if you thought it meant something, but—"

"But what?" I snapped. "You said you liked me." He hesitated, and I could see the gears turning in his head, searching for the right words. I felt his hand on my elbow, soft but firm. 

"I do like you," he admitted. "But not in that way. We’re good friends, Tara. That’s all."

I let out a hollow laugh. "Good friends?" I echoed. "Is that what friends do? Hook up with each other?"

His jaw clenched. "I was drunk—"

"Don’t," I cut him off, my voice shaking. "Don’t use that as an excuse. You knew exactly what you were doing, I even warned you."

Silence.

And then, he stepped back ,reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash. I watched in disbelief as he held it out to me.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t even breathe.

The first time he did this, I was too numb to react. But now, it hit me like a slap across the face. 

“Keep it! ” he said, stuffing money in my hand. 

A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat, but it came out as a strangled sound.

“If you need more, let me know.. ” he gave me a nod and turned to leave. 

"That’s all I am to you, isn’t it?" I whispered. "Someone you can pay off when you don’t want to deal with me anymore."

He paused and turned around. He didn’t deny it. I felt something inside me crack—something deep, something that would never fully heal.

"You don’t even respect me enough to hurt me with words, Ansh," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "You’d rather just hand me money and pretend it never happened."

“You are getting me wrong…”

“No ” I shook my head “ I got you right for the first time, you think I am some kind of object? ”

“No… . ” he sighed “But you need money, don't you?”

Need. The word stabbed me. It was always about the need. But not mine. He needed me, even when I was that little girl who used to sit near the shoe rack outside his door to wait for him. It was his need that brought us together. 

Need. I repeated in my mind. 

I looked at the money in my hand, the cold weight of it suffocating me. "You’ve turned me into something I never was, Ansh." I whispered, my voice cracking, "A price tag you can toss away when you’re done. And now I see, I was never worth more than the change in your pocket."

******